Page 51 of Overtake
“Well, that was as fun as having my liver removed with a spoon,” Reece says as they finally escape the media pen. Twenty minutes of questions about family dynamics and team tensions would drain anyone. “Nothing like discussing your brother’s qualifying performance with two dozen cameras in your face.”
“Better than discussing your mother’s surprise appearance.” Petra catches herself. “Sorry. Not your problem.”
“No, but—” Reece stops as Graham’s voice carries across the paddock, sharp with displeasure.
“Fifth isn’t good enough. If you’d just listened to me, you’d be on pole.”
Wyn’s not meeting anyone’s eyes as he hurries past with his raging father in tow. They disappear into the WolfBett team unit, but the damage is written in Wyn’s hunched posture.
“Some shit never changes,” Reece mutters.
Petra’s brows furrow as she considers the WolfBett building, then Reece. “Can’t get through to him yet?”
Reece shakes his head. “I’m trying.”
“Speaking of things that never change...” Nico nods toward where Kelley holds court with select media, perfectly positioned to be visible from their current spot. “Your mother’s timing remains impeccable.”
“Hardly my mother.” Petra’s voice could freeze Texas in July. “Just someone with whom I share DNA.”
“Petra—” Reece starts.
“Don’t.” But her tone softens as she adds, “I’ve got a strategy meeting, so I don’t have to deal with the hell beast.” She turns to leave, then pauses. “Nice driving today, boys.” A ghost of her earlier grin returns. “Even though you’re both too slow.”
Reece snorts. He slaps Nico on the shoulder, then follows his teammate toward the Nitro garage.
“There’s my champion brother.” Nicolina exits the pit building with Sebastian, both of them radiating the vibe of people trying very hard not to commit murder. “P2’s not bad. Though Petra was better.”
“Don’t start.” But Nico’s grinning as he drapes his arm around her shoulder.
“Yeah. Second’s okay.” Sebastian crosses his arms. “Especially with clean racing.”
“Too bad some people’s approach to competition means holding back when he should be pushing one hundred percent.” Junior´s emerged from the pit building behind them, drink in hand.
Now Nico understands the weird energy he’s getting from Nia and Seb.
Junior’s gaze fixes on Nicolina as he meanders across the paddock. “Shame about that scar. You used to be so pretty.”
The temperature seems to drop ten degrees.
“The fuck you just say?” Sebastian moves with the unerring power that’s made him a champion, backing Junior into the narrow space between the WolfBett and Nitro team units. No surprise, really. Damien Betterton’s boy never could find his way out of a pile of shit. The size difference between the two men is dramatically apparent.
“Seb.” Nicolina grabs her boyfriend’s arm, but her hand shakes. “He’s not worth going to jail for.”
“No. He’s not. But you are.” Sebastian’s voice contains the same quiet certainty it did when he testified about pulverizing the man who gave Nia that scar.
Nico sees the moment Junior recognizes exactly what kind of man he’s provoked.
Sebastian leans closer, still eerily calm. “Look up Wyatt Ogilvy, if you wanna see what I did to the last guy who fucked with my Ninita. I won’t hesitate to do it again.”
The drink slips from Junior’s hand. Glass shatters on asphalt and liquid splashes designer shoes, but no one moves to help him. Some people deserve whatever’s coming to them.
“Sebastian.” Nicolina’s voice steadies. “Dink. Please.” Dink is the guy’s nickname and Nico appreciates the irony.
Seb steps back, all his focus shifting to her. Junior takes the opportunity to flee, practically running toward the safety of cameras and crowds.
“I’m sorry.” Sebastian blows out a slow breath and shakes the murder from his hands.
“I know.” She touches his face gently. “But he doesn’t matter.”
